


The Things He Does

by CaptainTarthister



Series: From Across the Room [6]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Awkward Boners, Cunnilingus, F/M, Falling In Love, Making Out, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 10:25:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5493848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTarthister/pseuds/CaptainTarthister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smut, as promised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

One month later

 

“Tarly’s confident because he has that government contract coming up,” Jaime was saying over the phone cradled between his chin and shoulder. He was reading and replying to emails as he spoke to one of Lannister Enterprises’ lawyers. “But the company is hardly worth anything and that contract will only make it solvent for a couple of years max. . . I agree.We come at him with all we’ve got until he’s cornered. Find a way to make it come off as if we won’t be handing his ass to him, though. Better yet, who do we know in the appropriations committee that can bury that contract? Senator Arryn? Good, then. Get in touch with him…alright. Thank you.”

He slammed the phone back in its cradle, not due to anger or annoyance but out of habit. As he scrolled though his emails, someone knocked on the door.  
“Come in,” he said, firing off a reply to an email.

Tyrion shuffled in. Though dressed in a dark suit in a blood-red tie, his hair still looked mussed. Jaime knew it was deliberate, a middle finger raised at their father who frowned at anything wrinkled or imperfect. Jaime nodded at him as he climbed up a chair. 

“Brother dear, it seems ages since I last saw you,” Tyrion said, folding his short elbows over the arms of the chair. “How are things?”

Jaime grinned at him. “Very well. What really brings you here?”

Tyrion sighed. Both knew it was pointless to dance around Jaime, who preferred the direct approach all the time. “Father’s concerned you’ve missed two Friday dinners in a row.”

Tywin Lannister’s Friday dinners were mandatory but every now and then, a Lannister sibling would skip it. They just agreed not to avoid it at the same time else Tywin would sniff blood. 

Jaime shrugged. “So?”

“You seem to be seeing a lot of our favorite baker.”

At that, Jaime smirked. 

True to his word, he made Evenstar Bakery & Café the exclusive supplier of desserts for all Lannister Enterprises events, big or small. It started out as an apology for how big of an ass he had been to Brienne but in truth, the sapphire-eyed wench did all the hard work. She introduced herself, talked to people about her business. It was clear she was ill at ease in the crowd but she was determined, her eyes flashing bright as she soldiered through the inane conversations coming at her.   
It was also clear to Jaime that outside of work, Brienne didn’t have a lot of friends. There was Sansa, for whom she had a weekly Thursday dinner and movie thing, no matter what. Through Sansa she was also friends with the rest of the Stark family. But other than the Thursday thing, she hardly went out for fun. This was where Jaime stepped in.

The wench had less than zero experience with men and from how skittish she was, her encounters with them were nasty and just plain unforgivable. If Jaime had their names he’ll drown them all, he was sure of it. But all he was left to do was show Brienne that not all were bad. He wasn’t the best example of one but he respected and liked her. That wasn’t too hard.

She was industrious and dedicated, passionate and earnest. In the short span of time they knew each other, she became one of the very few people whose opinions he trusted. Never mind if her comments either began or ended with `asshole’ or ‘moron’ but they were honest. It was a great relief not to be fawned over, to be with someone who was far from impressed by his family name or with himself. 

So as much as possible, he and Brienne were together. They went out for coffee, she took him shopping with her for new baking supplies, he dragged her with him shopping for a new suit. They both liked the Night’s Watch series of historical detective fiction by Jon Snow and enjoyed films by Arthur Deyne. He didn’t understand how she could eat gummy bears and she rolled her eyes at his choice of chocolate raisins for movie fare. She didn’t like beets in her salad, so he took them off her plate. He wasn’t a big fan of olives in his so he transferred them on her plate. 

There were weekends when they’d have breakfast together. She didn’t like crowds so he went over to her apartment together they had waffles and bacon. One time, she hissed in pain when oil from the frying bacon spat at her. He was quick to go from around the counter to pull her to the counter, put her wrist under the water. Her freckled skin turned red so he sucked it, startling her. He was surprised with himself too. A silence fell between them as he sucked at her burn, green eyes boring into blue. Then he kissed it.

Since that incident, Jaime resolved to find ways to touch her, touch her longer and possibly kiss her. He didn’t understand why he was drawn to Brienne Tarth—she was ugly and awkward and way, way, not his type. But when he looked back at his romantic history, he couldn’t remember those women having anything in common, let alone their names. They all liked him but were more excited about fucking a Lannister than him fucking them. He didn’t even know if Brienne was thinking about fucking him—she was the virgin between them but sometimes, Jaime felt unsure and really green, finding himself stiff and aching in his pants whenever she was in the room. Was it because she smelled like cupcakes? Because she thought he was an asshole? Who knew. But the idea of kissing her, that wide mouth, those thick lips, was not unpleasant at all. 

Last week, he sought to find out once and for all if she was at least thinking of fucking him.

So he kissed her.

Jaime knew he was a jerk but he was a gentleman. He believed in getting doors for women, standing from his seat when they rose, giving his arm to them when walking, bringing them to their door. Brienne had protested at first that this wasn’t necessary, she was more than capable of doing these things but Jaime was insistent and ignored her.

They saw the WBA playoffs. Neither was a fan of basketball but his family owned Casterly Lions so they had courtside seats. It gave Jaime a secret thrill when Brienne showed up in a red baby t-shirt. She was not curvy but her arms were toned and her waist was trim and firm. Not to mention that the top put her freckles out for all to see. It was the most natural thing in the world to have his arm around her throughout the game, her generic shampoo in his nose, her warm body close. And Brienne, who tend to squirm away when touched, let him. At one point she even leaned against him. Jaime pulled her closer. Though in the middle of a crowd, he found quiet with her in his arms.

Her door open and waiting, Brienne turned to him. Her hair will always be a messy halo and he didn’t mind. Her eyes shone like the gemstone of their color. “I had a great time, Jaime, thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome. I had a great time too.” He told her sincerely.

Before, they would nod at each other and he’d indicate that she go inside. He only left once he heard her lock the door. Tonight, he stepped toward her.  
Brienne sent him a questioning look. “Jaime?”

She still called him Lannister more often so he called her wench twice more. But the few times she uttered his name, Jaime felt himself clench. What was it with his name from this wench’s mouth? He wondered.

“Yes, wench?” He teased her, putting his hands around her wide waist. He could feel her muscles under her shirt.

She glowered at him. “Brienne.”

 _“Brienne,”_ he groaned.

Then he kissed her.

He began by gently brushing his lips against her, memorizing their curves, their texture. They were on the dry side but warm, very warm and pillowy. Everything in him was screaming to kiss her, really kiss her, but he did not want to scare her—he had already shocked her just by kissing her like this. But he cupped her face in one hand as he deepened it, gently trying to coax her to open her lips some more, let him in, let him taste her. He licked her bottom lip and she gasped. Her breath tasted of Coke and red twizzlers. 

Jaime wanted so very badly to suck her tongue.

Instead, he continued kissing her gently, carefully.

“Jaime,” she whispered and to his regret, she pulled away. His hand fell from her cheek.

Jaime opened his eyes and stared at her. “What is it?”

She looked scared. Why are you scared with me? I would never hurt you. I’d kill myself first, Jaime thought. “What are we doing?”

“Kissing. Quite well, if I may so. Do you need reminding?”

He fought back a smile as her face, already flushed from their excitement from Casterly Lions’ win, flamed even more. “Why did you—why did you…why did you do that?”

“Why did I kiss you? Why not?”

She shook her head. “I’m not. . .I’m not like other women, Jaime. I’m. . .I’m not.”

“No.” He agreed. “You’re not.”

She nodded, a dimness falling in her eyes and he told her, “Thank the gods you’re not.”

Her eyes flickered back up at him. Jaime slowly returned his hands to her waist. 

“Can I kiss you again, Brienne?”

It seemed to take forever before she blushed and nodded.

 

Since that night, Jaime and Brienne found every opportunity to kiss until both realized that the ferocity of their making out was awkward as fuck when out in public. So they made out in the backseat of his limo, Brienne’s wonderful long legs draped over his lap. They made out by the door of her apartment, pressing Brienne so hard against it her shoulders bore marks. Her couch was the best option. Jaime realized that as long as Brienne was kissing him, he forgot how unyielding the cushion was to his back. 

What they were doing was simply the adult equivalent of teenagers making out in their secondhand cars and by their lockers. Jaime was both in heaven and hell. His pants had never been so tight, he had never been this hard, but he didn’t want to be the one to make the first move toward sex. He didn’t want Brienne to think that was all he was after. He wanted more. A lot more. He just didn’t know how much more. He was too busy kissing her and memorizing her moans to contemplate. Gods, it was indescribably good how it felt to kiss Brienne Tarth.

Before work this morning, Jaime went to Evenstar Bakery & Café. There were no deliveries today but Brienne, out of habit, was early and the only one there.   
Her office consisted of a simple desk and chair. Jaime was quick to show her that no flat surface would ever be a challenge to them, no matter how limited. Laughing over her indignant squeaks about how heavy and big she was, he plopped her on the desk, spread her jean-clad legs open, put himself between them and kissed her as if his life depended on it. It did.

Jaime couldn’t remember life before he kissed Brienne for the first time.

Right now, he was remembering her red, wet mouth, the glazed, faraway look in her astonishingly blue eyes and her dark pink cheeks when he left. It was getting harder and harder, and often literally, to leave her, to just kiss her. Jaime wanted to see how far her freckles went. He wanted the slight curve of her breast in his hand again—breasts he had not touched since his first night in her bed. He wanted to see if her thighs were rippled with muscle as he’d felt under her jeans. Above all, he wanted to sink his cock deep in her punishingly, wonderfully tight cunt and have those heavenly blues on him. He wanted to hear her moan his name, he longed to have her, really have her. Alas, Jaime, realizing that in spite of his dirty thoughts he was a gentleman, didn’t touch her anywhere else but her waist, her face and her back. Didn’t even allow himself the pressure of grinding himself between her thighs. He didn’t want to scare Brienne away.

Jaime crossed his legs, glad that the desk protected his arousal. Seven Hells, just thinking about his wench was getting him so hard. Tyrion would never let him live this down.

“Indeed I am. She’s a great girl,” Jaime said.

“That’s just it. She’s a great girl. She’s nothing like those airheads you gravitate to.” Tyrion remarked. “Be careful there, brother.”

Jaime laughed. “Where on earth did that come from?”

Tyrion smiled. “If I have to tell you, then you don’t know yet. And I would so hate to ruin the surprise for you.”

And with that, Tyrion jumped off his seat, winked at Jaime’s puzzled expression, and left.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne surprises Jaime. 
> 
> It's a very short chapter.

Three days later

 

As they stood in line for the new adventure movie, Brave Bravoosi, Brienne turned to Jaime. He smiled, loving the pink flush the cold put on her cheeks. Her eyes looked bluer than ever. Her jacket was unbuttoned so he was able to slip his arms under it and hold her close. 

His lips close to her ear, he told her, “You smell like sugar and snow.” 

Brienne was biting her lip, a deeper blush on her face when he pulled away to look at her. “It won’t snow for another few weeks. How would you know?”

Jaime wanted to laugh, not mockingly, but in pleasure, at her innocence. She really had no idea of her effect on him. He hummed as she put her hands on his chest.   
“Jaime? Can I. . .Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure, wench. Anything.” As long as you keep saying my name like that, he added silently.

She looked around. Her face leaped to another shade of red in the spectrum. Unable to resist, Jaime pulled her close and rested his lips against her cheek. “Ask me, wench.”

“Uh. . .maybe I should ask you later.”

He squeezed her waist. “Ask me now,” he demanded.

“This isn’t the place.”

For the first time, Jaime held her hard to his body. Brienne’s eyes widened when she felt the hard press of his erection against her thigh. “What—Jaime—“ she sputtered.

“This is hardly the place for a hard-on,” he whispered in her ear, “so I don’t see how out of place your question could be. Go on, wench.”

For the first time again, Jaime lowered his hands to her backside. Gods. She was firm there too. Brienne closed her eyes as he rubbed against her.

“Jaime,” she gasped.

“Ask me, wench. What is it?” His voice was guttural.

Her eyes opened, clear pools of blue. “Jaime, uh. . .” she took a deep breath. “When. . .when are we going to. ..” she put her mouth to his ear. “When are we going to fuck?”

“Seven Hells,” Jaime groaned, holding her tight.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's on. Sort of.

 

Jaime didn’t fuck Brienne that night.

He hadn’t fucked her yet. He wanted to. Gods, it was the only thing he wanted. But not yet.

But they did other things.

The night she asked him about when they were going to fuck in that shy way of hers, he yanked them out of the line, got in a cab and instructed the driver to take them to his apartment. Brienne had never been there and she looked like a scared little animal the entire ride. Jaime had to stop himself form mauling her in the backseat and taking her then and there. He wanted her first time to be special. He wanted her to know that there were men, well, he was the man, who could and would find pleasure in her pleasure.

The moment they were past the elevator, Jaime had very little restraint left. He let Brienne kiss him. She was still shy, she was still unsure but her eagerness made his head spin and got him near exploding out of his pants. He pulled her up in his arms, loving her long legs wrapped around his waist. Still kissing her hot mouth, he walked to the bedroom.

He was determined to show Brienne all manner of pleasure before fucking her. That her pleasure was also _his_ pleasure. As he flattened her on his bed and stretched over her, it hit him that no other woman had slept here. That save for his cleaning lady, no other woman had set foot in his home. It was intentional. His home was his personal space and never to breached by anyone uninvited. 

He wondered if he could stomach her leaving his life. 

“Look at you,” Jaime couldn’t help marveling as Brienne looked up at him, flat on her back and panting in his bed. Silver-blue light from the moonlit, star-splashed sky entered the windows. He ran a finger down her freckled cheek before brushing his lips against her closed eyelids, kissing every blond eyelash there. His breath was fast too. He pulled away and smiled at her, thinking how right she always felt in his arms, how right she looked in his bed. 

He took his time. Tasted her skin, kissed it. Reveled in the softness of her mouth, the warm taste of her tongue. He sucked on her collarbones, pressed kisses on every inch of skin bared with every item of clothing removed. He lay half on top of her although her solid form told him she could take his entire weight and not be hurt. But he didn't want to overwhelm her when every cell in his body screamed that he take her hard and now. A groan was torn from him when Brienne’s fingers carded through his hair and he had to catch his breath. Her innocent touch felt so good. He drew her open shirt down her arms, his eyes counting the freckles on her breasts. It pleased him she wore no bra. Her breasts were small, barely rising from the wide, firm plane of her chest and endearingly covered with freckles. He palmed a small mound in his hand. Brienne looked at him, her eyes worried, big teeth nibbling on her lower lip. 

“Jaime,” she moaned, arching against him as his tongue flicked lightly at her nipple. He could feel her racing heart. He feasted on her nipple with violent hunger, running his tongue around her breast, sucking it hard and playfully nibbling it. Her whimpers only increased the tempo of his ministrations. When her nipple was plump and red, he moved to the other.

“Relax, wench,” he assured her, kissing her breast. He could tell her lungs felt tight from tension. She was gasping and writhing. Gently, he rubbed soothing circles on her stomach, her diaphragm. “Breathe,” he urged her. “I’m just kissing you.” Laughter tinged his voice but it wasn’t mocking. Brienne looked at him. 

“I didn’t think. . .” Her voice trailed off.

“What?”

_“I didn’t think it could feel this good, Jaime.”_

“Ah, Brienne,” he groaned. So innocent. So wonderful. He kissed her deeply on the mouth. “You have no idea,” he mumbled between kisses, “how good you feel.”

He kept his eyes on her as he pulled off the rest of her clothes. Her body was a revelation. Hard and solid yet also sleek and feminine in spite of her small breasts, straight, boyish waist, wide hips and thick, muscular thighs. Freckles covered every inch of her pale skin, even on her inner thighs. Hooking his fingers on her plain, pale blue panties, he drew it down. 

He had to pry her thighs apart and she cried out, immediately struggling to put her legs back together. "It's okay," he whispered, licking her kneecap. His nostrils flared at the scent of her cunt, hot and humid and tinged with her sweetness. He groaned before lowering himself between her endless legs.

His lips slowly mapped the points and areas in her body that drew out startled gasps first and long, sexy moans afterward. Her stomach was a tense slab of muscle as he dipped a tongue in her navel. Finding her ticklish spot had her barking out a laugh and he laughed too, enjoying how the rough sound could sound so sexy coming from her. His tongue licked her from the hard jut of her hipbone down to the tips of her long toes. Even her legs were bunched with muscle and he couldn’t believe, couldn’t believe that they were covered in the softest, most sensitive skin. Kissing Brienne behind the knee had her hips lurching up. 

Jaime knew she was wondering, waiting, when he would fuck her. She wasn’t voicing it out but her eyes were asking, taking note of the sweater he still wore, the jeans that could barely contain his straining cock. He would fuck her once he was naked and though his cock was begging him, for the first time, he was going to deny it. It would kill him but just imagining how Brienne would shatter and find pleasure with his mouth and fingers alone would be worth it. So worth it.

His eyes green fire, he drew her to the edge of the bed until he had to get to his feet. Brienne sat up, curious but blushing so dearly and so sexily as he spread her legs wide apart and had her plant her feet by her hips. Dear gods, her cunt was pink and wet and looked _delicious_. His cock twitched in his pants. "Just lie back. Relax," he told her, his voice tight, and she obeyed him. When she looked at him with those very blue eyes, he groaned and leaned over her, kissing her hungrily on the mouth. 

How was he supposed to give her pleasure when his cock was shouting at him to fuck her? And it didn’t help that her eyes had a soft, languid look, like the calmest sea, her mouth dark pink and swollen. Her nipples were red and tight and there were red splotches on her skin too from where his beard had scraped her. But her cunt. Most of all her cunt. 

His eyes on her face, he brushed his fingers at the thick bush. They were rough and soaked. 

“Jaime,” Brienne breathed out. Her legs closed around his hand. Her eyes screwed shut and she bit her lip.

“ Just keep those sexy legs of yours open, wench. I want so much to fuck you,” Jaime confessed, twirling his middle finger between the folds, reaching up until he found the stiff nub of her desire. “It’s killing me not fucking you, Brienne, but I want you to find pleasure first.”

“What do you mean?” Brienne let out a cry as his finger flicked at her swollen clit. Her hips canted gracefully. She squirmed, fisted the sheets under her.“Jaime. That. . _oh_. . .that’s. . .”

Her eyes opened, begging him for something she didn't know yet, could only feel.

“It’s going to get better. I swear to you. How do my fingers feel?” As he asked, his fingers lightly pinched her clit.

Brienne's face exploded in the color of a strawberry. She looked so ripe and _delectable_ "Uh. . .good." 

"I can tell you're very tight. Gods, it's going to be heaven when I put my cock in you. Look at you squeeze me. Shit. Fuck. _Fuck._ " 

Then he got on his knees and put his mouth where it had been longing to be since they had kissed for the first time. He mouthed the drenched curls there before thumbing her open and sucking noisily at the stiff button of her clit pointing at him. 

Brienne’s response was breath-taking. She gasped and squealed as he buried his nose and rubbed it against the wild, pale blond curls of her cunt. She squirmed, she writhed, it took everything he had to keep her down and spread wide open. He breathed in her secret, salty-sweet smell, wishing he could bottle it and always have it on hand to remember this night. She tasted as good as she smelled, his tongue discovered shortly, all woman and all _Brienne._ With one hand pressed on her inner thigh so she remained open no matter how many times she attempted to squeeze his head, Jaime introduced the first finger into her virgin cunt. The flesh yielded easily; she was so wet the sheet under her was already dark with her moisture. 

The first foray of his finger in her cunt had her jerking against him, his name little pants from her lips. When he sucked on her clit and pushed a second finger in, she screamed, her hips lurching high, almost dislodging him if not for the determined hold of his lips. When she came again, he let her taste herself, sliding his tongue against her before pushing it deep in her mouth as his fingers fucked her mercilessly. He tasted her throaty cry, fucking her cunt deeper with his fingers,wishing desperately it was his cock discovering her depths. He didn't pull them out as she fell limp back on the bed. Heat in his eyes, his fingers curled in her cunt again, a loud squelching sound following the motions. He kneed her legs further apart. "No more," Brienne gasped, her eyes smoldering blue pools, her hips moving against him, taking his fingers deeper. She tried closing her legs but she was too limp. Jaime, grinning, shook his head and took her lips in his mouth again. She hissed her pleasure against his tongue when he curled his fingers and twisted them.

Jaime was tireless in giving her pleasure. Brienne shattered several times throughout the night an he put her back together with kisses and caresses before he made her explode again with his fingers or his mouth, or both. But she begged, she begged Jaime to let her have him. If he wasn’t going to fuck her yet, then please, he had to let her taste him. 

“Never let it be said I denied my wench,” Jaime rasped, yanking off his clothes. 

Teaching Brienne to pleasure him was pleasure itself. He showed her how to hold him, how he wanted her to grip him. He told her he liked his balls to be tugged a little and when she tried it, he yelped, it was slightly harder than he preferred. Brienne jerked her hand away, embarrassed but Jaime kissed away her mortification, urging her to try again. Gods, she should try again. 

But she was determined to learn how to suck him. She got on her knees at the edge of the bed, her eyes blue and big as she asked him to instruct her. “There’s no need for you to take the entire thing in,” he said, grasping his rigid cock and rubbing it. “You won’t be able to do it the first time. But the head. Start with the head. Do what you want. I mean it. And I don’t expect you to swallow, wench. I’ll tap you on the shoulder to warn you when I'm about to come. Alright?”

“Okay, Lannister,” she teased him. She had no idea how sexy she looked naked and on her knees. He laughed, feeling a surge of joy being with her. He lowered his head and took her lips in a kiss so gentle it was as if he was unsure. But he wasn't. He had never been more sure and scared yet also, strangely, happy. He shook when her tongue sought his own in the deep, warm cavern of his mouth. With one hand gripping her head, he guided with the other so she could grasp his straining cock. She sighed his name.

When the sun rose hours later, they were still tasting each other.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime explains things.

After the first night she came apart with his fingers and lips, in his bed, Brienne would sleep most nights with Jaime. In her bed, a smaller queen-size, they huddled close and tight, legs tangled, tasting each other’s breaths. The cold drove them deeper under the quilt and closer in to each other’s arms. Jaime kept his fingers warm by sliding them in Brienne's cunt. He enjoyed her pitched cries as he fucked her to sleep with them. She.squeezed tight and mightily until only by curling his fingers did he fight the numbness. He would follow with a groan, spilling against the back of her thighs. He kept Brienne hot and panting with promises to fall asleep on top of her with his cock still deep in the warmth of her cunt. Her pleas lulled him to sleep.

His bed, a much larger king-size, enabled them to stretch and spread but at some point during the night, they shifted closer to each other until their arms and legs were entangled. Jaime often woke up first. He listened to Brienne breathing, kissed her behind the ear. In a matter of days since they started sleeping together, his pillows and sheets began to smell of her skin and her secret musk. On nights she spent in her bed (she pointed out that they still needed to give each other space and Jaime, though loathed to sleep apart, agreed), he slept with his face buried in her pillow. Sometimes, missing her so much, he jerked off with his nose in the pillow. He wouldn’t tell her this as he himself was surprised that he needed someone this much. 

One Sunday morning, Jaime went to her apartment armed with a package of coffee, bacon and pancake mix. Brienne welcomed him with a kiss at the door. It was only supposed to be a kiss but they ended up on the couch, the package dropped somewhere, mouths still latched on to each other. Jaime lost his pants and shoes and ended up on his ass on the iron-hard couch while Brienne slipped to her knees between his legs.

His wench was a determined thing. Jaime told her again and again that giving head took practice. “You need to practice on suction, how to breathe, how to swallow. You have to practice not biting me,” he said, amused. But he stopped laughing each time she practiced on him, first sucking on the head of his cock as he’d suggested. This Sunday morning, however, Brienne told him she wanted him to come in her mouth. 

“Hells, wench,” he groaned. “I don’t expect you to swallow.”

Her blue eyes gleamed. “I want to.”

He told her to let him come first and just lick him clean after, if she wanted. "there's no need to rush, wench. I like how you suck me," he told her, his breathing ragged. He had very little control when she was just touching him and totally lost it when she wrapped her lips around his cock. The thought of fucking her down to her throat made him weak-kneed and really hard. He didn’t want his wench gagging so, as they’d practiced, he tapped her on the shoulder when he felt that familiar heat and tightness in the middle of his back. His hips jerked fast and hard as he came. 

Still on her knees, Brienne picked up a drop of his semen from his thigh with her finger and guided it to her mouth. He groaned as she took an experimental lick, feeling his world go light then dark then light again. 

“Oh,” was all she said.

Women had given him head before. They were always damned enthusiastic, more than he. Jaime witnessed more a performance rather than actual desire so he was more often unmoved but yes, satisfied, much like scratching a hard-to-reach itch. With Brienne, it was different. 

“What?” He asked. 

“It’s a little salty. But I like it.” She bit her lip. “It’s also a little sweet, I think.”

Jaime smiled at her blush. His pants were somewhere in the room and she was still in her baggy, faded, denim button-down and frayed denim shorts. He should be the one blushing. 

“Come here. Kiss me,” he told her.

“But shouldn’t I. . .shouldn’t I brush first?”

“I kiss you after fucking you with my tongue. Why should I not want to kiss your mouth right after you’ve sucked me off? Especially,” Jaime’s voice took on a seductive turn as he pulled her up, “since I’m the first you’ve had?”

Brienne put a hand on his thigh. “Not yet.”

With a new boldness, she wrapped her hand around his cock. “I want you to fuck me, Jaime.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “Brienne,” he gasped as she rubbed him.

“I’m so wet. And it aches. Why won’t you fuck me?” 

“Seven Hells. Have you been watching porn, wench? Where’d you lean to talk like that? Don’t stop,” he pleaded when her hand faltered. His smile was a grimace.  
“Gods, don’t stop.” At the back of his mind, he imagined his innocent wench touching lifting quotes off a porn film and listing them down. It was the exact thing she would do. 

“Novels,” she whispered.

“Huh?”

“Smutty romance novels. That’s where I learned to talk like this. Do you like it?”

He let out a breathy laugh. “You’ll kill me one of these days, wench.”

Jaime let her rub him one more time before he pulled her up. He had her straddle him so he could look right in her eyes. He took her hand and kissed it before putting it on his shoulder. Then he kissed her, drinking deeply from her lips. She moaned and he nipped her before sitting back. His hands found her hips.

“I want to fuck you. But I want. . .I want us to get to know each other more first.” Jaime admitted.

“Get to know each other first,” Brienne echoed. “What are you talking about?”

“How many relationships have you had before me, wench?” He played with her limp hair. He twirled a short lock around his finger.

She flushed. “You know the answer to that.”

“The answer is none. You’ve never been kissed—a crime, if you ask me. One I’m more than glad to rectify. I’m your first relationship. I don’t want to fuck things up by rushing or making you do things you’re not yet sure about. Hells, I wouldn’t have even kissed you if you were not begging me.”

“Begging you? What? When?” Brienne demanded and he laughed, slapping her playfully on the ass.

“Each time you look at me with those eyes of yours.” He said. Adopting a falsetto and widening his eyes, he said, “`Kiss me, Jaime. I’m horny.’”

“I do not,” Brienne protested hotly, making him hoot with laughter, “talk like that. And certainly did not put it that way. You kissed me first!”

“Would you have kissed me first, wench?” He asked her. “Honestly.”

She shook her head. “Probably not. I wanted to, just so you know but. . .”

He knew. Having been mocked for a good part of her life, risks were not the style of Brienne Tarth.

“It was messing with my head wondering if you wanted me too, Brienne. If I asked you straight out you might run away. So I thought to kiss you. I figured if you punched me at least I'd kissed you first. Then we started making out all the time. I was waiting for you to make the next move. Of course, slick, experienced man that I am, I thought you’d be coy about it with inviting me over to your house and having me stay longer—“

“For the record, Lannister, you invited yourself the first time and wormed your way to my bed.”

“And proud of it. Anyway, I was thinking you were going to put out those little signs. You know, `I want to have sex’ signs and everything. I was looking forward to it and dreading it too.”

She frowned. “Why?”

Jaime kissed her on the shoulder and breathed in her fragrance. “I’ve never been in a serious relationship. I’m no virgin, you know that, but I’ve always believed in fucking first and forgetting the woman—“

“Jaime, you’re a jerk, you know that?’ But she tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear as he spoke. Then she pinched his ear and he yelped. "That's for the women whose hearts your broke," she said, giggling. 

“I know. Until you.” He kissed her palm. “I was thinking we could delay the sex, wench, but you had to ask me, of all places, in the line for a bloody movie, when we’re going to fuck. If that isn’t a sign ten feet high I don’t know what it is. I would be a fool to say no because I want you all the time, Brienne.”

He turned so she was lying under him. Jaime stretched over her. He groaned as his cock poked against her thigh and the cuff of her shorts. His eyes on her, he started unbuttoning her shirt. 

“But Jaime,” Brienne moaned as he leaned down and licked her nipple. “I need to know. I want you to fuck me. I want it. I want you so much.” 

Her breathless plea would undo a stronger man. Jaime sighed and kissed her throat. 

“I know, wench. I know.”

“If you really want me, you’d fuck me now.”

Holy Seven Hells. Was she blackmailing him? Jaime didn't know whether to do as she demanded or prolong this self-inflicted, way unnecessary torture. In the end, honor won out. “I do want you. And I like you and respect you. That’s why I won’t be fucking you on your couch. It’s your first time, wench. I want it to be good. You should have it good.”

“It’s already good because I’m with you, Jaime.”

He kissed her on the lips. “Brienne,” he whispered, oddly touched. 

“It aches, Jaime,” she whispered. Blushing hard, she brought his hand between her legs. She was warmer and wet.

“I can kiss it better. I’ll make you feel better,” he promised, rubbing her through her shorts. “But we’ll have to slow things down, Brienne. There’s no need to rush.” He smiled at her gently. “I’ll be here tomorrow, and many tomorrows after. Until you don’t want me.”

Brienne shook her head. Smiling, she whispered, “That’s not happening, Lannister.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you noticed, there are time jumps. I'm trying to write to focus on what's essential so this new series is going to be stripped down and quite fast.

**Author's Note:**

> WBA is the NBA equivalent in Westeros.


End file.
